Crystals
by silvereiko
Summary: Eight years after the Labyrinth, the Kingdom of the Fae is in turmoil. Can Jareth and his companions save the realms of Fae and Human? Can Jareth keep his loved ones safe? JS
1. Chapter 1

_Silvereiko: I donot own the Labyrinth or Jareth or Sarah. I do own Kithis andsome others, so ask me if you want to play with them. :) Flames and praise welcomed. Enoy!_

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Crystals

Jareth, King of the Goblins, watched a crystal globe intently. He was currently holding a serious conversation with a fellow Fae. His cousin Vladigar, King of the Enchanted Mountains, looked worried, as well he should have been. The news that he had just given his cousin was disturbing, to say the least.

"Games." Sighed Jareth tiredly.

"Always, cousin. Is there any other way?" Vladigar scowled as he said it. He had dark hair that had been shorn close to the scalp, making his gray eyes and delicately pointed ears all the more prominent. He had never been one to consign to the style of the Fae court, one of the many reasons he generally kept to his forest. He was far too practical and blunt for the schemes and intrigues of his people.

Jareth gently rubbed his temples in sheer frustration. Vladigar laughed at the gesture, earning him a scowl that would have sent an army of lions running. His reflection showed him raising a hand in a peace-offering gesture.

"They make my head ache too, Jareth. But the question still stands. How do we avoid this?"

Jareth heaved another sigh. "We can't. They have made it effectively impossible."

"Damn." It was said without feeling, more of an observation.

"My sentiments precisely. You had better come to my castle, Vlad. We need to make plans or they will finally smite us." He looked up at the ceiling as if he was searching for answers. All he found were cobwebs. "Over a thousand years, my friend. And still our Houses seek to rout us."

Vladigar scoffed. "We were ever the outcasts. I don't know about you, but it has worked in my favor."

Jareth smiled at that. "I know." He focused on his cousin again. "I will see you soon. Oh, I wouldn't leave Jaelis alone. It may be dangerous. There is more than enough room here for the both of you."

"You're right. Besides, she adores you. I'll be there in a week or so. Be cautious, cousin."

"I will." The crystal went black and Jareth was left alone with his thoughts.

The Fae were a powerful race that had existed for longer than anyone could remember, and considering that they were immortal, that was a very, very long time indeed. Once, they had walked through the place called the Aboveground, where the humans and the machines now held sway. When the humans first appeared and began to kill or entrap those associated or gifted with Magic, the Fae fled to the Underground. It was the place that Magic had carved out for itself and the Fae had made a pact to nurture and care for it if it would protect them from the humans. As a result, there was a barrier between the world of humans and the world of Magic. Over time, the Fae had divided the Underground into kingdoms, with the eldest and wisest among them named High King. His direct family members were placed as kings for the minor kingdoms, and a Council and Court had been established in the heart of the Underground. It was said that the grand city of the Fae rested on the soul of Magic itself, but no one was alive now that knew if it was true or not.

Being immortal didn't mean being invulnerable. There were ways that they could die, just not from natural causes like old age. The most ancient among them looked not a day over thirty human years, but they could die by sword, poison, or magic. Wars were always devastating. But thousands of years would pass with little or no change and many simply gave up on life, too weary to go on. They went to sleep and never woke again. Other Fae found ways to entertain themselves, and political intrigue was something that never grew old for many of them. It was called the Game.

It was a constant covert battle of wits, grace, cunning, and intrigue. Power was something that everyone seemed to want, even if they had plenty of it. Centuries ago, Jareth and his cousin had refused to play the game. The repercussions of what they had done when they were pushed had shocked their people and nearly torn down their social laws. Despite being grandsons to the High King, they had been exiled far from the Shining City soon after the debacle.

Now, Jareth and his cousin were being forced to play the game. The Fae had become divided. The factions were warring for power and his Grandfather was in a precarious position. Maleficus, the High King's younger brother, had been attempting to undermine the current power structure for centuries. Now, the Fae were on the brink of civil war, or at the very least, rebellion. Only one other time had this happened; many generations before Jareth's parents were born. The aftermath had been horrific. No one wanted the Underground to erupt in flames and blood again.

So, Jareth and Vladigar would go play the Game, and with any blessing at all, they would survive it together.

The Goblin King turned on his heel and stalked out of the spell room. His black boots thumped on the stone floors of his newly refurbished castle. Black and white veined marble walls and floors gleamed in the soft magical light that came from spheres hung from the ceiling. There were tasteful tapestries and paintings on the walls, depicting scenes from the history of the Fae and many other species of the Underground. The furnishings in the various suites and rooms he passed were carved out of mahogany and not a trace of dirt or dust could be found. All in all, his castle had become the complete opposite of its former self.

When he was first "appointed" as ruler of the goblin realm, he had wallowed in the degeneracy around him because he felt that it was the best way to reject his Fae nature. He had sequestered himself here, choosing to ignore the world and rely on the Labyrinth to entertain him throughout the centuries. After all, the previous rulers had done much the same. It was common knowledge that the Goblin King was always a sort of exile. It had taken a mere slip of a girl to show him how much of the martyr he had made himself.

Sarah. She had bested the Labyrinth itself, and had beaten him. She had torn his illusions and his castle down around his pointed ears. The mortal won her brother back, and she won the love of the Labyrinth as well. The Labyrinth was alive and had a will of its own, as well as feelings that were a little peculiar. When Sarah had defeated it despite Jareth's trickery, it hadn't gotten angry. In fact, it adored the girl and missed her terribly. Jareth had spoken with its corporeal form many times since Sarah had left, and their relationship was much better for it. He understood it better than any other ruler before him, and the proof that it was happy with Jareth was in the massive maze itself. The walls were crystal instead of brick or sandstone and the paths had grown flowers. The trees and beasts were much tamer and healthier. Even the Bog of Eternal Stench had become clear and sweet –smelling.

In return, Jareth had summoned the most talented dwarf masons to rebuild his city and his castle. The outer wall was black crystal to appease the Labyrinth, but from there it went to marble. Most of the houses were white or gray marble with dark wood for the trimming and doors, and the paths were cobbled with brown, rough marble slabs. Tress and grass were everywhere they could be, vibrant swaths of green in a sparkling city. Eight long years later, the city and the goblins themselves were clean and respectable, and while his subjects could never be beautiful, they had become a handsome people. For once, they had both rulers caring for them, and it was glorious.

Jareth smiled to himself as he wandered the corridors of his home. He was content with his kingdom for the first time in centuries. The borders of his land were thrown open to all who were seeking sanctuary on the condition that they were worthy of it. As such, Jareth's duties had come to include interviewing candidates who were looking for a safe place to live, far from servitude or owed allegiance.

As to Sarah, well, he honestly didn't know. True, when she had rejected his offer, he had been at a loss. After all, the Labyrinth wasn't the only one to fall for the girl. He had looked in on her and her little brother often at first, but he hadn't felt the need or the compulsion to do so in quite some time, a couple years even. Today was one of those days he was tempted to look.

Jareth slowed and absently began rubbing his temples. Even now, years later, she gave him a headache. He chuckled at himself grimly. Here he was, a millennia and a half years old, with more political problems than you could shake a stick at; and he was worried about an old infatuation.

"Pathetic, Jareth. Simply pathetic." He muttered.

"Who is?" a gravelly voice interrupted his musings from down the hallway.

Jareth looked up to see his advisor and friend; Kithis strolling down the hall. Kithis was one of those outcast Fae who'd found his way to Jareth when the borders opened. He was tall and heavily muscled, with curly, flaming red hair and hazel eyes. He dressed like a mercenary: black trousers, boots, and shirt, and enough weapons to scare an army. Jareth had never seen him without them. There were twin daggers in his belt, another on his thigh, one in each boot, and a sword in a spine sheath. Somehow it was common knowledge that there were many more hidden about his person. On his arrival, he had promptly taken up the task of being Jareth's bodyguard, despite his new lord's protests. Over time, once he was sure that Jareth could take care of himself for the most part, he'd let the Goblin King appoint him as an advisor. It was certainly better than being interrupted during a bath because Kithis was afraid someone had drowned him.

Jareth smile ruefully. "I'm afraid I'm the pathetic one, my temperamental friend. We have problems and I am thinking of past follies."

"What problems?" with those two words, Kithis morphed into the warrior he'd had to become to survive. He stood relaxed, with his hands unconsciously close to the daggers in his belt. His hazel eyes scanned the hallway around him casually, but you could see how alert he was by the set of his broad shoulders.

"Easy my friend. Not now, but soon." Jareth soothed. "Come, I'll tell you about it on the way to my chambers. I am going to cancel the audiences today."

"I am not going to like this, am I?" Kithis asked as he fell in next to his friend.

"No, you're not." Their footfalls echoed through the hallway.

"Can I curse?"

Jareth sighed glumly. "You'll have to yell them over me or you aren't going to hear them. I fully intend on ranting like a lunatic."

"Done then."

"Sweet Magic! Those insolent cowards! Idiots! Deviants! Usurpers! Depraved, twisted, vicious morons!"

Kithis had been going on for about ten minutes or so, and Jareth was quietly amazed that he had that many insults without repeating himself. He had run out of insults after a three-minute tirade, but it seemed that his friend was much more inventive.

Finally, Kithis stopped yelling, either because he ran out of things to say or because he was too angry to say anything. He paced furiously around the large study, black clothing rustling and boots thumping heavily on the rug. He stopped abruptly and whipped around to face Jareth.

"I am coming with you to High Court." He growled.

Jareth grinned and inclined his head. "I would have it no other way. But will you be alright with…"

"My family? Oh yes. I doubt that they will recognize me. It was a wonder you did."

"So you wish to go in secret? It can be arranged."

Kithis plopped into a comfortable chair opposite of Jareth and sighed. "I think it would be for the best if they still believed I died in Schezarath." He ran his hands through his hair and snorted disgustedly. "I will have to either shave my head or dye it."

Jareth thought for a moment. He laid his head against the back of his chair and gazed at the supports on his dome ceiling. "Black would suit you. I could pass you off as a common servant."

Kithis snorted again. "I might actually be more useful in the service. I would certainly get better information. Household servants are notorious for knowing everything about everybody."

"Why do I get the feeling you've done this before? Wait. I don't want to know. I never do. I asked once and you told me and I still wish you hadn't."

"You're babbling, my lord."

"I know." Jareth went to run his hands through his hair but stopped when he remembered that he had cut it close to his scalp like his cousin. He settled for rubbing his temples instead. "I am so tired of our people Kithis. They are the spoiled children of Magic."

Kithis rose from his chair and gave Jareth a friendly clap on the back. "Don't worry. You'll get through this and so will the Underground. In the meantime," he suggested, "Why don't you go through those big double doors. Your bed is calling you, I am sure."

Jareth sighed and stood with a wince for cramped muscles. "You're right. Find Solaris for me, will you? Tell him I need to meet with him tomorrow." He began to go to his room but stopped cold, struck by a sudden thought. "Kithis, a personal question if I may?"

Kithis bowed cheekily, weapons and leather creaking from the flourish. "Ask and you shall be answered."

"Do you have someone…dear to you?"

Kithis abruptly lost his playful edge and a haunted look passed through his eyes, quickly replaced by something fierce. It was all the answer Jareth needed.

"Bring her to the castle, Kithis. The stakes are too high to guarantee safety outside my walls. Evil plots often involve innocents: I told Vladigar to bring Jaelis."

His friend looked stunned. "Would they really stoop so low?"

Jareth nodded grimly. "Too many "accidents" have happened to make me doubt it. She will be safer here." He softened his words with a smile to ease the panic in the warrior's face. She must be something indeed, if she could disarm such a hard man. "What is her name, just out of curiosity?"

"Yasvana."

Jareth caught his breath in surprise. Yasvana had been another outcast Fae that had come to his land some years ago. It had been clear from the moment she walked in the chamber that she had been badly abused. Thin, bruised, and haunted, she had barely been able to speak. Jareth had waived the audience and sent her to the healers. Since then, he had checked on her a few times, but she was so fragile around males with strong power that he had left her primarily alone. He had also found out what had happened to her and single-handedly cut down everyone involved with her torture.

"How-?" he began.

"She chose me. I still don't know why." Kithis explained as he looked at the ground. "I've never been happier. I'd do anything for her." His voice was unnaturally rough and Jareth marveled at the power of love. It was obvious that Kithis was in over his head and would give anything to stay that way.

"She'll be safe, I give you my word."

Kithis nodded and looked up at last, finally composed. He gave a lopsided grin and made a shooing motion. "Get to bed. Solaris will see you in the morning." He turned and walked quickly out of the study.

Jareth sighed and went into his bedchambers. With a thought, he changed into his nightclothes-which consisted of loose black trousers and laid down to sleep. It was nearly eight in the morning, but it couldn't be helped. The council with his cousin had taken more time than was expected. As he drifted off, resolving to wake in a few hours, he heard a faint voice in the back of his head.

_It's not fair._

He smiled wryly and murmured "No it isn't."


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello again! Here's a look at how Sarah is doing. Be patient, the plot will thicken. Bwahahaha! Oh, and I don't own anything except alot of sheet music and a beat-up french horn. :)_

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Sarah Williams crawled out of bed in a daze. It was barely seven in the morning, but there was so much to do today. The stack of papers by her bed rustled and threatened to fall over, but she lunged and managed to balance them. She let out a sigh and flopped back down on her bed, holding her head against the wave of dizziness that threatened to suck her in. It was always like this, ever since she had gotten out of college two years ago. She worked as an editor for a local publishing company and wrote her own material, but her hours went beyond extreme to insane. Not that she would have slept if she had the extra time. Nightmares and worse haunted her sleep.

She groaned softly as her body woke up and started to ache. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself from her bed to look around her tiny studio apartment. She found her towel and headed to the shower. The steam and the water took some of the soreness out of her muscles, but it couldn't do anything for the bone-deep exhaustion she felt.

_Sarah…_

The whisper jerked her awake. Hmm. Maybe she did need more sleep. There was no way she could call off though. There was a mountain of work to do and no time to do it in. She got out of the shower, pulled her hair into a bun and threw on her usual outfit- black skirt that came down below her knees, knee-high black boots, and the shirt of the day was….a white v-neck shirt. Variety was her specialty. Really. She had white, black, maroon, cream, and blue shirts to match her black skirts.

She grabbed a stack of papers and left the apartment in a rush. No time for breakfast again. She was in her desk at the small publishing office ten minutes before anyone else and working frantically on a pile of manuscript when her friend and boss, Janine walked in.

"Hey kiddo! What's the rush?" she beamed. Janine was one of those beautiful ladies who could be thirty, but was actually closer to sixty. She always had a smile on her face and a friendly word for her workers. "No coffee again? Are you trying to quit?"

Sarah looked up at the handsome woman and smiled tiredly. "Nah, Janine. I was just late today, that's all. I still have the Gascline novel to finish editing and a new one just came in from a regular. It's Dr. Harrisman's new book."

"Oh dear, why don't you give some of that to another worker? I'm sure there's plenty to go around."

Sarah winced and shook her head. "I promised that I would do the Dr.s', and this other one was already under my care." She shrugged. "No big deal."

Janine looked skeptical as she frowned. "Ok honey, but I expect to get a notice for vacation time from you after this one."

"Yes, boss. I promise." Sarah hung her head like a chastised puppy.

Janine snorted. "You said that last time. Make sure you do it this time." She gave Sarah a pat on the shoulder and went to her own desk.

Sarah looked at the mountain around her and got to work. As always, hermind refused to stay wholly on her work. There was something forming on the edge of herthoughts like storm clouds on the horizon. It was distracting and infuriating. There were times when she felt that her thoughts weren't necessarily safe, or even hers for that matter. Maybe she was just weird.

_I wonder what you basis for comparison is?_ an eloquent voice murmured in the back of her mind.

Sarah sighed and shoved the memory and its meaning away.Infuriating, made-up Goblin King. He'd taught her so much about life in less than thirteen hours, but she was still sore about how he'd taught her. Hallucination or not, some of what had happened still stung. Oh sure, after her "episode"(as she thought of it), everything had been peachy. Her stepmother wasn't the monster she'd painted her as, Toby was a sweet lovable kid, and her father wasn't nearly as dumb as she'd thought. She graduated, went to college, got her master's in journalism, and found this busy but awesome job in record time. She didn't have a social life, but hey, that was ok. Most of the guys she'd met had been jerks and the girls were no different with a few exceptions. She'd dated maybe once or twice, but the guy, no matter how nice he seemed to be…was lacking in some way she couldn't pinpoint. Or maybe she could, but hell would look like Hawaii before she would ever admit anything of the sort.

"Those pants were ridiculous anyway." Sarah grumbled. Then she thumped her head on her desk when she realized what she had said out loud. "Please,Jareth." She whispered. "Get out of my head."

_Jareth.._

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_More coming soon. Tell me what you think._


	3. Chapter 3

_Jareth.._

Jareth woke with a start. Someone was calling him. Then he cursed at the stinging afternoon sun streaming through his windows. Wait…afternoon?

"By all the levels of hell…." He snarled.

"My, aren't we just a morning person?"

Jareth snarled at Solaris and rolled out of bed, no easy task seeing as how he had to thrash his way out of the mass of blankets and pillows. He perched on the edge of his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he looked blearily at the prissy half-elf in front of him. Who, by the way, happened to be impeccably dressed in black formal attire and whose iron gray hair was in perfect order. Blast him.

Solaris was, for lack of a better description, the best damn butler anyone could want. He was also nosy, stuffy, and had an attitude that could quell the most enraged royal. He'd long ago perfected a look that said "I know more than you ever will, you silly person. Now be good and go rule your kingdom.". In addition, he was perhaps the most intelligent and loyal person besides Kithis that Jareth had ever known.

"I was supposed to be awake several hours ago. Why didn't you get me up?" Jareth asked groggily.

"Kithis did not inform me as to your request, though he did say that I was to see you as soon as you did wake. Had I known that you were in fact not awake, I would not have come to your chambers to deliver the daily precepts." Solaris explained while he placed the documents on a table by the bed. He then walked to the giant closet and pulled out a black silk robe which he handed to his king with a gray eyebrow raised at his tousled appearance.

Jareth shrugged into the robe, ignoring the look from his butler and proceeded to get down to business.

"What did Kithis tell you Solaris?"

"Everything, my lord."

"You will be alright running the Kingdom while I go to High Court?"

The serious half-elf merely looked at his King.

"Shut up. Of course you can. You've only been in my service for a hundred years. I know, I need more sleep. Ugh." Jareth mumbled.

"You're babbling, my lord." His old hazel eyes twinkled merrily despite his straight face.

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" The Goblin King moaned. He pulled himself off the bed and trudged to the bathroom, Solaris close behind. He stepped into the shower while his butler leaned against the sink.

"You are familiar with the Fae Court, Solaris?"

"Indeed. I spent most of my younger years as a butler in the palace, but I never worked in the main royal family wing. I must say, I am much happier in your service, my lord."

"Thank you, my friend. Have you kept up with the political maneuverings?"

"One hears things even out here, my lord. Kithis was quite detailed in his explanation, and I daresay that I've rather expanded my vocabulary when it comes to describing those things."

There was a noise rather like someone choking on a mouthful of water from the shower, followed by wheezing laughter.

"My lord?" Solaris inquired.

Jareth continued to alternately wheeze and laugh between gulps of air. "Sweet magic…haha… vocabulary…haha…"

Solaris sighed and drawled out as he left the room. "Should you need me, sir, I shall be in the parlor with the house staff preparing the large dining room for your guests."

Once outside the doors to the King's chambers, Solaris shook his head and straightened his already perfect tie. "Royalty…" he muttered, and then set off to find his wife and the house staff. There was a lot of cleaning to be done before the guests arrived.

Jareth appeared in the main dining room sometime later, dressed in gray breeches, black boots, and a black shirt. He wore a thin rapier on one hip and a dagger in his boot that earned him yet another of Solaris's eloquent looks.

"Are we courting guests or trouble, my lord?"

"I would prefer to be prepared for both." Jareth knew that his smile was more cruel than humorous, but he couldn't help himself. Something was threatening everything he had built, but more importantly, they were seeking to harm those under his protection. As Fae, he could not tolerate the threat to his people. He felt wild and on edge, almost hyper-sensitive. It was dangerous to cross any Fae when they felt their people were being threatened.

"Well, I see that my crystals weren't out of focus. You're still as ugly as ever, cousin." A jovial voice shouted from behind the fuming King.

Jareth whipped around, dark thoughts leaving as a wide grin spread across his face. "That isn't what Auntie Talia said. I seem to recall a conversation in which she mentioned that you got none of your father's good looks, but you certainly got his bad ones."

Vladigar threw back his head and roared with laughter. Then he grasped Jareth by the hand, dark eyes still twinkling with mischief. "Ah, but I seem to have done well for myself seeing as how I'm married to the most beautiful Fae in the land."

"That doesn't count my dear, you knew I was right behind you." Jaelis swept up to the two cousins wearing a half-smirk. She tossed her long, honey-colored hair over one shoulder and scowled up at Jareth.

"Your cousin is in a bit of trouble, Jareth. He made some unsavory comments about me to a friend of mine, so he's trying to make up for it." Her violet eyes held the same mischief as the two cousins as she elbowed her husband to the side and promptly embraced Jareth in a hug that would do a giant proud.

"I miss you, why don't you visit?"

"Let the poor chap breathe, my dear. He's turning blue around the edges."

Jaelis released him and turned bright pink. "Oh! Sorry, Jar."

"It's all right, Jae. They're just ribs. They heal." Teased Jareth. He reached out and affectionately cuffed her shoulder. "I am so happy to see you two, I just wish the circumstances were happier."

Vladigar came up behind his petite wife and tucked her close into his body. They made an interesting couple; tall and dark against small and light. Vladigar looked positively possessive and happy to be possessed. He smiled softly at his wife and looked up at Jareth with something like desperation in his face.

"There is news, Jareth. Jae, why don't you tell him?"

Jaelis lit up like the sun and put her hands over her stomach. "Jar, we're going to have a child."

Disbelief and joy slammed into Jareth as he reached out and embraced the glowing couple in a rare show of boundless emotion. Everyone was laughing and crying at once. Pregnancies among their race were rare and far between. One of the functions of the Labyrinth was not to turn the wish children into goblins, but to gift them to a loving couple. Through the sharing of blood from both parents and a binding oath, the children became Fae and were cherished above all else. For Jaelis to be pregnant was a miracle. And very, very dangerous.


	4. Chapter 4

As usual, Sarah stumbled home alone. It was late and the April winds were chilly, but she had gotten most of her work caught up. Now all she wanted was a bath, some tea and to go to bed. Tomorrow was Saturday and she had full intentions of sleeping in until about noon the next day before working more on the new material.

As she was nearly to her apartment, the wind picked up. It was normal wind for April, but then a chill started from her head and went to her toes and her heart slammed painfully into her ribs.

Something was wrong.

There were _things_ dancing at the edges of her vision, shrouded by the deep shadows all around her. She hunched her shoulders and attempted to walk faster, but the world seemed to have slowed down. The air whistled through her lungs as her panic got the best of her and her throat closed off.

_Damn anxiety attacks. Chill out Sarah, there's nothing there. Calm the hell down._

Suddenly, Sarah stopped moving as her ears strained to pick up any sound. The things in the shadows were pressing closer . . . and now they were laughing.

Evil, malicious giggles, words and bits of sentences swirled around her, taunting her and frightening her more than just their presence ever could.

She clapped her hands over her ears in an attempt to drown out the noise, but the words and laughter were _inside her head._ And they were burning her from the inside out. With every half-caught phrase or vile declamation, Sarah could FEEL her sanity being pummeled. She sank to her knees on the hard concrete and clutched at her head in agony, her breath wheezing loudly through her throat.

Abruptly, the encroaching shadows ceased dancing and talking as a tall, ethereal figure stepped from them.

"Well then, you aren't at all as I pictured you. Quite small for the bane of a kingdom, aren't you?"

The voice was smooth and aristocratic, with a heavy but strange accent. However, it wasn't the voice that caused Sarah to quit breathing altogether, but the figure itself. It was a tall, sleek male with pale skin and long, dark hair. . . and pointed ears. And upswept eyebrows. And silver eyes.

" . . . oh . . .no." Sarah wheezed as she dropped her gaze to look at the rest of him. Her heart was hammering painfully in her throat as she struggled to put things together in her mind.

He was beautiful, but not in the 'I'm-going-to-sit-here-and-drool-over-you' sort of way, but rather like some exotic cat at a zoo. Despite being impeccably dressed in formal attire, his movements screamed dangerous predator.

He didn't walk, but glided over the ground to where she knelt. For her part, she was unable to do anything but listen to her rasping breath and watch him warily. He reached out slowly with a gloved hand and tangled it in her hair to tilt her head back. The shock of meeting his gaze was like a physical blow. The cold, silver orbs looked deep into hers and his mouth moved over strange words. Up close, he was even more intimidating. A cruel smirk lifted one corner of his mouth a second before Sarah felt it.

The figure smashed into her mind like a freight train. He didn't ask or warn her- he simply plowed through Sarah's mind, thoughts and memories.

The violation was excruciating. He was literally tearing things apart in her mind that she didn't even know could be reached. It felt like he was pulling things apart in a room full of books, tossing things over his shoulder and ripping through pages. But it was HER, dammit! Every bit of knowledge, every memory, every feeling was examined and summarily tossed aside. The pain kept going and she vaguely wondered if the whimpering she heard was her in the real world or if it was still contained in her head.

Suddenly, with one last violent jerk, she felt him find and dislodge what he'd come for. The memories of what she termed her 'episode' were replayed in an instant that left her reeling.

"Jareth…" she mumbled numbly as she remembered the look on his face when she denied him.

"Filthy Human!" the sneered words were punctuated by a kick to her ribs. "Though he may be the disgrace of our race, he's still Fae. It's Lord D'Anth to you!" Abruptly the anger changed to a purring tone of consideration, at which point Sarah, holding her aching side, promptly determined that otherworldly beings were prone to schizophrenia.

"What I wonder, my pet, is why he neglected to wipe you clean. I should have had to have ripped your entire psyche apart to get what I needed."

Sarah tried not to shudder, but it was impossible. The thought of his violation continuing until she was insane filled her with horror. She ignored the twinge in her ribs and got to her feet. Now that the pain had subsided, she was rapidly thinking of a way out.

_Oh well, when in doubt, piss 'em off 'till they can't see straight_. It was a bad idea, but it was the only one she had.

"Listen, you arrogant excuse for a fairy, I'm not entirely sure what you want with me, but I have a fair guess. You can forget trying something like that again. I'm not weak, nor am I frightened. I've dealt with your kind before." The arrogant ass actually looked at a loss for words. She looked into his stunned face and gave her best Jareth smirk. "And I won."

The Fae blinked and tossed his head back, laughter erupting in the cold air. As the laughter died away, he looked at Sarah, silver eyes sparking with amusement… and something less friendly. His voice still held the edge of his amusement, but there was a biting quality to it that had her stepping away.

"I have missed the Mortal realm. I have missed you mortals and your ignorance." He paused and cocked his head to the side as he looked her over slowly from head to toe as she backed away. "But perhaps most of all," he said softly, "I've missed breaking you mortals like so many twigs."

He moved faster than she could ever hope to see, and her vision doubled as he backhanded her to the concrete. She could hear him speaking, but it was far away, through layers of shadow and cotton.

"I am Lord F'arnir, and you are the instrument that I need to bring one of our own to justice. You will tell all before I am done with you, and I will enjoy the way you will scream your confessions."


End file.
